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This article is a critical study of the Nepalese art and
iconography discussed in the Circle of Bliss, Buddhist Meditational
Art, an exhibition catalogue, by John Huntington and Dina Bangdel with
the contribution of graduate students of Ohio State University, Columbus
and some other scholars. [1]
Huntington and Bangdel’s articles [2]
published in Orientations as the prelude to the exhibition also
will be discussed here briefly. The materials are collected and presented
in the catalogue and other related works with a great effort to surpass
previous scholars in excellence and achievement. This endeavor deserves
admiration. In fact the catalogue is one of the rare examples in the study
of South Asian art history where we find a teacher sharing his new research
and ideas with his students. Greatly encouraged by the teacher’s generosity,
the students, in turn, feed him back with further investigations. Despite
such admirable endeavor the work is open to criticism for three different
reasons. First, the catalogue is characterized by misleading information
that emanated from defective methodology. Second, it is riddled with the
easily detectable mistakes which resulted from the lack of careful observation,
and insufficient knowledge of variety of subjects such as epigraphy, language
and culture, so essential for the study of Newar Buddhist art. Third, the
cult of Cakrasamvara and Vajravārāhī is treated there
without giving any attention to already published important historical sources
closely related to the cult. A few examples may suffice.

Fig. 1

Several Buddhist texts repeatedly describe that prince Siddhārtha
was born in the Lumbini grove from the side of the queen mother Maya as
she grasped a branch of a tree. According to the Nidānakathā
soon after such supernatural birth the newborn baby received an atmospheric
shower bath. Often a peculiar phrase is used to describe the event, utum
gahāpesum "[the gods] caused [the baby] to receive the
season." [3]
This phrase helps us to connect the concept of the nativity scene with
pre-Buddhist belief associated with the birth of a cosmic child, and with
a latent aspect of Newar Buddhist tradition, which celebrates the birthday
of Bodhisattvas as the prelude of the rainy season during the bright half
of the Jyestha month. A significant Nepalese sculpture
in the catalogue (fig. 1) depicts the scene almost exactly as described
in the text. On the right, Maya is shown clutching the branch of a tree.
On the left, immediately above Siddhārtha, two cloud gods holding
global water jars are depicted flying in the middle of the stylized cloud.
Many years ago when Kramrisch published this image very first time she
correctly identified the cloud gods as devaputras[4]
because in early Buddhist texts such atmospheric deities are often described
as varsavalāhaka devaputras “rain clouds,
the sons of the gods” ( Ańguttaranikāyatikā
2.2.37 ). In later Buddhist texts the cloud gods are identified
as Nanda and Upananda devaputras or nāgas, the serpents. The lotus
flowers flowing down from the jars held by the gods symbolize the shower.

Fig. 2

The authors of the very first entry in the catalogue, which treats of
this sculpture, do not seem to be familiar with such textual reference
to cloud gods or to their significance. Thus they identify the male divinities
of the cloud as apsaras[5]
. This is indeed a big problem. If the authors cannot distinguish female
apsaras from the flat chested male divinities, I wonder how it
would be possible to handle the other complexities of art historical study.
In the same entry, they argue that the sculpture should be dated to the
5th to 6th century instead of the previously accepted 9th century. The
main point of their argument is based on the stylistic similarity of the
lotus shown in the nativity sculpture as a pedestal on which the newborn
Siddhārtha is standing and the same flower held by the Gana Baha
Padmapāṇi. Since the latter can be dated ca. 550 the authors
express their opinion that the nativity sculpture also belongs to about
the fifth or sixth century. But stylistic study is not that simple. The
lotus employed for a pedestal and the lotus held by divinities should
not be treated as the same. Compare the lotus pedestal of Gana Baha Padmapaṇi
with the lotus he holds (fig. 2). The difference is huge. The pedestal
is treated here rudimentarily, rendering only the pericarp of the lotus
decorated with vertical linear pattern around its edge, whereas the lotus
held by the god is rendered much more elaborately and naturalistically.
This means the sixth century Nepalese artist was familiar with the naturalistic
treatment of the lotus but it was not used for a pedestal of a Buddhist
deity at that time. Such usage compares with that of the beads and flame
motif. It appeared for the first time in 467 A. D. when it was used for
the flaming edge of Viṣṇu’s shield in the famous
Tilaganga Viṣṇu image (fig. 3). But this motif became
part of the nimbus only after the seventh century. Thus it becomes clear
that the fifth century date for the nativity sculpture is not based on
a logical explanation. The languorous, elongated body of Maya and her
diaphanous sāri differ widely from the dwarfish proportion,
stiffness, and rudimentary treatment of the sāri in the
Tilaganga relief (fig. 4) but bears some similarities with those features
seen in the twelfth or thirteenth century bracket figures from Uku Baha
(fig. 5). The abstract space between the crossed legs of Maya and the
Uku Baha bracket figures is almost identical. The pleated middle section
of the sāri in both examples cascades down from the waist
and goes over the left leg in similar fashion before it terminates into
the flower bud like end. Thus the 9th century date given by Stella Kramrisch
in her seminal 1964 catalogue remains unchanged. [6]

Fig. 3

Fig. 4

Fig. 5

The main problem in dating the work of art logically is
apparently associated with a lack of ability to distinguish history from
legend. In the introductory essay of the catalogue Bangdel writes:

Although the Licchavi kings were primarily Hindu, inscriptions refer
to Buddhist monasteries founded by royal patronage and grants, such
as Mana Vihara built by King Manadeva, Raja Vihara by Amsuvarma, the
Syengu Baha at Svayambhu Mahachaitya by Vrishadeva, and Gum Vihara,
also a royal foundation but without attribution to a specific king.
[7]

In support of her argument she footnotes Daniel Wright’s History
of Nepal. Although I have been working on Licchavi inscriptions meticulously
for many decades I have not seen any Licchavai inscription that refers
to Syengu Baha as Vrsadeva's contribution. The information
that we get from Daniel Wright’s work is not based on the analytical
study of inscriptions. Despite the fact that the tittle of his work is
History of Nepal it is not a history book but a collection of
legends, fabulous stories and some historical materials of the medieval
period. Information derived from such materiel can not be accepted as
factual without verifying contemporaneous sources. Therefore citation
of such work as inscriptional evidence clearly indicates an underlying
problem, the confusion between history and legend. As we see shortly,
the lack of historiography is indeed the main problem in the development
of the methodology employed throughout the work.

Fig. 6

Although the authors of the catalogue show more interest in iconography
than stylistic study neither Huntington nor Bangdel seem to know some
basic elements of Tantric Buddhist iconography. Throughout the catalogue
the authors explain the technical term dharmodayā, as “a
pair of interlocking triangles.” [8]
This explanation is erroneous. Several esoteric Buddhist texts including
the Vimalaprabhā, commentary to Kālacakra,
[9]
testify that dharmodayā is an inverted triangle symbolizing
the female principle. Abhayākaragupta, the well-known author of the
Nispannayogāvali, explains that “in terms
of macrocosm (bāhya) the triangular dharmodayā
is no other than the endless sky, in terms of inward (adhyātman)
significance she is Prajnā". [10]
Moreover, Sādhanamālā no. 97 clearly states that
“Dharmodayā is akin to sky, and appears like the vowel
e [Brāhmī script] because it has a wide upper section and narrow
pointed lower section.” [11]
Since this vulvate triangle resembles the vowel e in Brāhmī
script it was also known as ekāra “the letter e.”
The interlocking double triangles motif was actually known to the Buddhist
as evam or evamkāra, signifying nondual
unity of female the principle e and the male principle vam,
a syllabic letter in ancient Indian scripts which was visualized as an
upright triangle (fig. 6). Although such a hexagonal double triangle is
known to Hindus as satkona, Buddhists
preferred to call it evam. Buddhist texts often begins with the
word evam as in the mantra like phrase evammayā śrutam “thus I have heard.” The representation
of interlocking double triangles is based on the esoteric interpretation
of this phrase.

The correct identity of dharmodayā may appear to be a trifling
matter or an effort at faultfinding. But a careful study of this symbol
is actually very important for understanding the characteristics of Newar
Buddhism. Newar Buddhists of Kathmandu identified this inverted triangle
with an aboriginal female divinity of a waterhole or waterholes. We know
this from several sources including the observation of her unique shrine
and its symbolic representations in stone relief.

Fig. 7

One of this divinity’s shrines is located in Hmasinga, currently
known to Nepali speaking people as Phulbari near Balaju, the other one
in Mrigasthali, east of famous Paśupati temple. Both these shrines
are actually underground, fresh-water springs covered by a repousse lotus.
[12]
The Hmasinga shrine (fig. 7) is considered to be center of the primordial
lake of the Kathmandu valley and according to Buddhist Newars the rainbow
like variegated light representing Jyotirūpa Svayambhū emerged
from it. Some Buddhist Newars believe that the real Hmasinga is located
on the northern slope of Svayambhū hill. The word Hmasinga literally
means “the depression located in the place called Hmasin.”
A nineteenth century colophon of a Newari manuscript in the collection
of Babukaji Vajracharya at Ombahal Kathmandu identifies this hole with
the Buddhist goddess Khagānanā “Bird Faced,” who
is also known as Guhyeśvarī. [13]
The Newar Buddhist scholars are of the opinion that the minor deity with
the same name, Khagānanā, mentioned in the Sādhanamālā
no. 218, and Samvarodayatantra 7. 19 is identical
with this Buddhist goddess. This view may be correct because in Umapati’s
Vajravārāhīsādhana Khagānanā is
described as the goddess of the Himalaya. [14]
However, due to her association with the waterhole and Svayambhū
she is not a minor deity in Nepal.

The significance of the waterholes in the valley can be
understood properly only if we give an attention to the fact that the
main source of water is believed to be rain and the mother sky itself
is considered to be a big hole, mahābila. Newars originally
believed that the sky is mother, which sharply contrasts with Indo-European
concept of father sky. [15]
Rainmaking rituals are performed around these waterholes during droughts
and some of these water sources are named after the Ākāśagańgā,
the milky-way which is viewed as celestial water in both Sanskrit literature
and Newar tradition. [16]
The Svayambhūpurāna prescribes worshiping the
waterholes (jalotpannarandhrāni) on the full moon
day of Śrāvana month, when the copious monsoon rain
is expected. [17]
The waterholes are believed to be the reminiscent of the primordial lake
of the Kathmandu valley. Both Hindus and Buddhists agree that the main
deity of the waterholes is Guhyeśvarī, and worship her as their
tutelary lineage deities, variously called istadevatā,
kuladevatā or degudya. However, the Newar Buddhist
tradition of the valley prefers to identify her with the dharmodayā
triangle. This is evidenced by a brief statement found in the Svayambhūpurāna,
where the symbolic representation of this goddess is described as a yoni
like dharmodayā (yonyākārena samjātā
… dharmodayāsvarūpena trailokye ca prakhyāpitā).
[18]
Such vulvial symbols are often represented in stone relief. An seventeenth
century inscription found at the western section of the Cilamco stūpa
in Kiritpur tells us that such stone relief was known to the Buddhist
community of the valley not exactly as dharmodayā but as
dharmadhātu shrine. This is understandable because in esoteric
Buddhist literature the word dharmadhātu is synonymous with
dharmodayā. For instance, Hevajratantra Tīkā
(folio 33b) explains that “dharmodayā is dharmadhātu
because the worldly phenomenon or the noble dharma [directly]
rises from here.” [19]

Such dharmadhātu shrines are very different from the dharmadhātu
mandalas which are round and laid flat on plinth-like
high structures. The dharmadhātu shrines, on the other hand,
are vertical stone slabs with pointed arch adorned with the Garuda
or kīrtimukha motif flanked by two makaras (fig. 8). Locally
these shrines are also known as torana, “a gate”
not only because the shrines appear like the gates of Newar palaces and
temples but also because the inverted triangle symbolizes both the vulva
and a celestial gate. The author of the Samvarodayatantra
2.25 clearly states that dharmodayā is both a yoni
and a gate (dharmodayā-yoni-dvārānām).
This concept goes back to the early Vedic period. The Atharvaveda
10.2.31, 10.8.43 for instance, describes the human body with nine apertures
as an unconquerable city (ayodhyā) with nine gates.

Fig. 8

Although the gate like Dharmadhātu shrines are seen all over the
valley, one finds them also on the valley’s great stūpas
including Svayambhū stūpa, Tukan Bahal stūpa
in Kathmandu and Pulan Syangu stūpa at the western slope
of Svayambhū hill. The famous Dhando stūpa of Chabhil
is also surrounded by multiple dharmadhātu shrines of this
type. Earlier versions of the shrines are well illustrated in a drawing
published in Hodgson's article [20]
almost two centuries ago (fig. 8). In a sense the great stūpas
of the valley are not only the abode of the five Tathāgatas but also
the shrine of the aboriginal mother goddess of waterholes represented
by the dharmodayā/dharmadhātu symbol. This is not surprising
because the Svayambhū himself emanated from this deity’s waterhole.

There is an explanation for why this goddess of the dharmodayā/dharmdhātu
is known as Khagānanā, "Bird Faced." The Candamahārosanatantra
(15. 16) and its commentary by Kumāracandra inform us that in esoteric
Buddhist literature the word khagamukha “the face or the
bill of a bird” means female genitalia. [21]
Since the term khagamukha is synonymous with khagānana
in Sanskrit, it become abundantly clear that the mother goddess was known
as “Bird faced” because of her association with yoni.

The yoni symbol is represented in South Asian art in many different
ways. It is true that in some example the yoni is depicted almost like
the bill of a bird. [22]
To my knowledge, such example is not available in Nepal. But in this country
the yoni symbol is depicted almost always within a torana.
According to Newar legend the bird depicted on top of the torana
or dharmadhātu shrine is not exactly Garuda of Sanskrit
literature but a mythical bird Chepu who controls celestial and terrestrial
water that appear in the form of male and female serpents. The authors
of the Tantric Buddhist texts also deny the identity of the bird with
Garuda. Thus they use a technical word kramaśīrsa
"he head of the succession" as a synonym for the apex of the
torana. In a description of the elaborate torana
of a mandala painting, the author of the Pindīkrama,
refers to this bird as a kramaśīrsa paksinī
"female bird perched at the apex of a [torana]."
[23]
Although we do not know exactly where the Pindīkrama
was written perhaps in Nepal, this particular reference to female gender
of the bird is apparently the initial step toward the Nepalese interpretation
of the bird-faced female deity in association with torana
and dhormodayā.

Fig. 9

Art historically, however, the bird on the torana is
the metamorphosis of the ancient kīrtimukha motif symbolizing four
atmospheric directions and center. In my previous work, I have explained
that although the legend of Chepu or female bird is not directly related
to such artistic development, its symbolic association with atmospheric
phenomenon has remained intact in the valley even in the late seventeenth
century. The entire shrine with the kīrtimukha or the bird motif
on the apex of torana is part of the iconography of the
tutelary lineage deities worshiped by Newars before and after monsoonal
rain. [24]
Hindu tutelary deities are also represented in similar shrines. In those
cases the shrines are not designated as dharmodayā or dharmadhātu
but simply a torana. Thus we have good reason to believe
that not only the symbolic identity of the yoni with the celestial gate,
but also the popularity of the analogy between the yoni and the bird seems
to be the main reasons that the Buddhists in Nepal prefer to represent
the symbol of yoni/dharmodayā within the torana.

Fig. 10

At the Southeast corner of Svayambhū stūpa there is
an eighteenth century shrine decorated with the Newar style torana,
the dharmodayā/dharmadhātu, with the Chepu bird on
top, but with two round openings instead of an inverted triangle as expected
(fig. 9). That it is simply a different version of the typical shrine
is borne out by a seventeenth century painting in the collection of the
Cleveland Museum of Art (1973.69) (fig. 10). As Bangdel has noticed, it
depicts a similar shrine, which seems to be that of the istadevatā
mentioned in the inscription at the bottom of the painting. It is highly
possible that this tutelary deity is Khagānanā, an identity
that depends upon the family tradition of the donors mentioned in the
inscription. It is interesting to observe that such a torana
shrine closely resembles Tibetan gau, a portable shrine, which
in turn is the cognate of the empty niches of the early monolithic caityas.
The opening of the gau is known to the Tibetans as sgo-khuin
“doored space,” undoubtedly because the shrine is no other
than a torana.

The nineteenth century Nepali Pundit Amrtānanda, who helped
Brain Houghton Hodgson to study Newar Buddhism, was familiar with the
torana shrine attached to the Svayambhū stūpa.
He describes it briefly in his unpublished work Dharmasamgrahakośa
and expresses his view that the shrine may represent Manjuśrī,
Vairocana or Vajradhātvīśvarī. Since he could not
identify it exactly, he concluded that this empty shrine actually represents
śūnyatā. More recently in 1978, when the famous
Buddhist Pundit Hemaraja Shakya wrote his book on Svayambhū stūpa
in Newari language he identified the shrine as Vajradhātvīśvarī.
[25]
This identification is based on Amrtānanda’s work but
without referring to other possibilities mentioned in the source. Since
then local informants and tourist guides, with great enthusiasm, have
been explaining the significance of the shrine to visitors. Depending
on such information, Huntington found no problem identifying the shrine
as Vajradhātvīśvarī, which helped him to show her
identity with Prajnāpāramitā and the relation between
the Svayambhū stūpa and Vairocana sādhana
of Guhyasamāja. [26]
The authors of the catalogue discuss the shrine repeatedly and have published
its photographs in two different occasions. But they did not make any
attempt to read the short inscription given at the bottom of the shrine,
which can be translated as follows:

“In the year of 872 (A. D. 1752) on the fifth day of the bright
half of the Āsādha month [this] divine Dharmadhātu
… is commissioned by the donor Gyanapati.”

Clearly this is a dharmadhātu shrine, a typical feature
on the stūpas of the valley. Here one can argue that both
dharmadhātu and Vajradhātvīśvarī symbolize
śūnyatā; therefore the shrine actually belongs
to Vajradhātvīśvarī, whose significance in turn is
based on the fact that she is no other than Vajravārāhī.
Such traditional approach, which is based on synthesis instead of analysis,
is not helpful because it prevents us from detecting the amalgamation
of pre-Buddhist religious elements into the esoteric Buddhist pantheon.
In fact identification of two divinities bearing different names always
indicates a new layer of development.

Fig. 11

At the beginning of the nineteenth century there was a similar dharmadhātu
shrine at the northeastern corner of the Svayambhū stūpa
as testified by the Laksacaitya painting, dated 1809, in the Avery
Brundage collection at the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco (B61 D10+)
where one is clearly represented (fig. 11). As we know from the Svayambhūpurāna
originally this northeast corner of the stūpa was characterized
by a celestial hole (vivara). [27]
Apparently a main purpose of Gyanapati’s commission of a dharmadhātu
in this southeast corner was to create symmetricality. Compare Hodgson’s
drawing of Chabahil stūpa (fig. 8). It is also important
to note that the second representation of Svayambhū stūpa
in the lower section of the Laksacaitya painting shows two Dharmdhātu
shrines flanking Aksobhya’s temple. Thus the round hole
at the bottom of Gyanapati’s dharmadhātu shrine apparently
echoes the original hole at the northeast corner. Furthermore the stylized
lotus petals around the hole in the dharmadhātu shrine immediately
recalls the typical shrine of goddess Khagānanā at Hmasinga.
In the Svayambhūpurāna[28]
this goddess of a fresh water spring, is described as jalaskandha
“a mass of water” and in the same text the primordial lake
Kalīhrada of the Kathmandu valley is designated as dharmadhātu.
[29]
Clearly in Newar Buddhism the word dharmdhātu symbolizes
not only śūnyatā but also water. The hidden logicality
behind this association of śūnyatā with water
is based on the view that śūnyatā is the sky,
which is the main source of life giving water both celestial and terrestrial.
The sky is, however, a big hole, a gate, a yoni symbolizing the
great mother goddess, Khagānanā. Unfortunately, the authors
of the catalogue did not even try to understand the significance of Khagānanā,
mentioned in the inscription of the laksacaitya painting, and
simply identify her as Guhyeśvarī / Vajravārāhī.
[30]

The catalogue is indeed a detail study. The introductory essays and the
entries are written so elaborately that quite often they exhibit redundancies
such as the valley is a mandala. Thus, the short
articles, published in Orientations before the exhibition, are
the better examples of their methodological approach than the catalogue
itself. For instance, in his article Huntington writes:

In its present iconographic iteration, for which, as mentioned, there
is direct physical evidence of having been in existence since the sixth
century, the [Svayambhu] Mahachaitya is a polyvalent symbol of considerable
complexity. [31]

According to this statement Svayambhū stūpa has multiple
symbolism and the present iconography of the stūpa is the
iteration of an early version that goes back at least to the sixth century
A.D. Nowhere in this work Huntington suggests that earlier symbolism of
the stūpa might be different from later interpretations.
He believes that the deities of the shrines around the stūpa
are arranged in accordance with the Pindīkrama sādhana
of the Guhyasamāja Tantra. He writes:

… it can be seen that the Vairocana shrine is just to the South
of Akshobhya’s. In this meditation, the practitioner visualizes
himself at the east as Akshobhya in non-dual state with Sparshavajri/Mamaki.
In the completion stage, the practitioner as Akshobhya/Sparshavajri
is in the centre of the mandala and looks to
the east to realize that Vairochana is present in no-dual state with
Saptalochana, who is represented in the northeast shrine. Thus, for
part of the meditation, Vairochana is actually on the east and his shrine
is appropriately physically located there on the Mahachaitya. [32]

This is indeed a fascinating statement, but also a perfect example of
his defective methodology. Admittedly one can study art historical materials
as they are understood by a group of people in particular period of time
and space. Such synchronic study may be valuable but it should not be
accepted either as complete or accurate. In fact due to the lack of historiographic
analysis such study is often dangerously misleading. This is the main
reason that Huntington’s methodology is open to criticism.

His argument that the iconography of the stūpa is in perfect
harmony with the Pindīkrama Sādhana of the Guhyasamājatantra
is mainly based on the location of the Vairocana shrine at the eastern
section of the Svayambhū Stūpa. But this shrine did
not exist there before 1713. The Svayambhūpurāna
, most of which was written around the time of King Yaksamalla's
rule (ca. 1428-1482), refers to only four Buddhas: Aksobhya
, Ratnasambhava, Amitābha, and Amoghasiddhi at four directions of
the stūpa. Since Vairocana was considered to be in the middle
of the stūpa his shrine was not represented then outside
the dome of the stūpa. According to contemporaneous diaries
known to the Newars as thyasaphu the earliest image of Vairocana
at eastern section of the stūpa is the contribution of the
queen mother Bhuvanalaksmī, who was active during the first
quarter of the eighteenth century. [33]
Almost exactly a hundred years later, the Newar Buddhists of Kathmandu
replaced the original contribution of the queen with much bigger statue
of the god when they renovated the stūpa in 1816. However,
the image of Vairocana that we see today is of even more recent date.
According to the pedestal inscription, the image was erected only in 1918.
Although most of these materials were at least partially published in
Nepalese publications many decades ago, Huntington does not seem to have
taken much time to study them. This was grievous omission. It led him
on faulty grounds to adduce a startling new theory proclaiming that the
iconography of the stūpa, presumed static since at least
the sixth century, is based on the meditational practice prescribed in
the Guhyasamāja. As the historical materials amply illustrate
this cannot be substantiated. Similarly, his view that the image of Saptalocanā
Tārā to the left of Aksobhya represents both Māmakī
and Saptalocanā is unacceptable. [34]
In 1918 when Svayambhū stūpa went through a massive
renovation the Buddhist priests of Kathmandu rearranged the images of
the Tārās, [35]
clearly because there was a discrepancy in the scheme of the five Tārās’
association with the five Tahāgatas, apparently which was not settled
even in the twentieth century. Without examining these historical documents
one cannot jump to the conclusion that the image at the northeastern shrine
of the caitya stands for both Māmakī and Saptalocanā
alternately.

Trained in this inadequate methodology, Bangdel begins her own investigation
and claims to explore the origin of Buddhist divinities of Kathmandu valley.
Unfortunately, however, her study of Nepalese materials is also characterized
by the weakness in understanding the difference between original and secondary
development. For instance, explaining the significance of Vasudhārā
or Vasundharā she writes:

For the Newar Buddhist lay practitioner, the great esoteric deity,
Vajravarahi/Vajrayogini, is remote and aloof in the extreme, yet powerful
beyond the wildest imagination. It is through her exoteric manifestations
that the full force of her wisdom and power come to fruition for the
laity. In Newar Buddhism, one of the preeminent exoteric manifestations
of Vajravarahi is Vasundhara, one of the most beloved of the Buddhist
goddesses. [36]

Fig. 12

According to this statement the significance of Vasundharā or Vasudhārā
is based on the fact that she is the exoteric manifestation of Vajravārāhī.
This reasoning does not differ much from the traditional explanation of
the Newar Buddhist priests of Kathmandu. Bangdel simply accepts it without
giving much attention to the fact that Vasudhārā’s pre-Buddhist
association with agrarian prosperity can be detected easily with a careful
observation of her iconographical features. The main attribute of the
goddess is dhānyamanjarī, a Sanskrit compound
word for “sheaf of rice paddy” (fig. 12). Although Bangdel
translates it sometime as “sheaf of grain” and other time
as “sheaf of wheat” we know for sure that in classical and
Buddhist Sanskrit dhānya means rice paddy (Nepali dhān).
Here it is important to note that in Nepal rice is harvested in the beginning
of autumn, wheat in the winter. Thus Vasudhārā is worshiped
annually on the first day of autumnal rice harvest known to the Newar
farmers and Buddhists as Gātilā. During the Gātilā
ritual, her image is placed on top of a heap of rice and an offering of
rice paddy to her is considered mandatory. Clearly Vasudhārā
is a deity presiding over fresh paddy. This is why she is conceived as
yellow, and holds a sheaf of rice paddy as her main attribute. Illustrated
Newari manuscripts in the National Archives in Nepal (A. 151; A. 153)
dealing with auspicious and inauspicious sights often represent a heap
of rice as very auspicious and identify it as Vasudhārā, so
labeled immediately below the representation. Once we are familiar with
such original significance of the goddess it becomes obvious that her
affiliation with Vajravārāhī is secondary development.
Such analysis is completely absent in the catalogue despite the fact that
authors claim to investigate the origin of the valley’s Buddhist
divinities “before the introduction of either Hinduism or Buddhism
to the valley.” [37]

The lack of proper knowledge of Sanskrit is also a monumental problem
for Bangdel. This is evident in many places e.g. in a following example.
In her frequently quoted work as a main source for the catalogue, Bangdel
describes Manjughosa "rejoicing [in sexual embrace]
with Vajrasattva." [38]
This embarrassingly erroneous translation, which is given twice in her
work within few pages in the same chapter, resulted from the misspelling
and misunderstanding of following Sanskrit sentence—iha bhagavān
mahāvairocanātmā manjughosah suviśuddhadharmadhātujnānasvabhāvah
svābhavajrasattvena mudritah, which actually means "Here
Bhagavān Manjughosa stands for Mahāvairocana
and symbolizes pure dharmdhātujnāna; [his crown]
is marked by [the image] of Vajrasattva who bears similarity [in complexion]
with (Manjughosa) himself." The correct reading of
this text is found in Bhattacharya’s edition of the Nispannayogāvali.
[39]
But Bangdel did not understand the meaning of the technical iconographical
terms svābha “bearing similarity (with his or her
own color)” and mudritah “ marked, (a headgear
marked by the image of a superior deity). Thus she changed svābha
into svabhā and mudritah into muditah
to obtain desired translation. Although space does not allow me to write
in detail, this is not an isolated example of the desired translation
but a trend throughout their works. The Newari inscription found in Jivarama’s
sketchbook, for instance, does not contain any word or words to prove
that “Jivarama personally wrote this [inscription].” [40]

Lack of the knowledge of Newari language and culture is yet another big
problem of the authors. Huntington is a specialist of Tibetan art. His
study of Newar Buddhist art is his new interest. In fact he began to investigate
Newar art intensively only after Dina Bangdel, a daughter of Nepali art
historian Lain Simh Bangdel, began to work with him. But Dina could not
help him much because her knowledge of Newari language and culture was
limited as well. Thus she argues that the appearance of Tibetan goddess
Palden Lhamo in a Los Angeles painting is helpful to pinpoint the provenance
of the painting as Tibetan. [41]
But she is not familiar with the fact that according to Buddhist Newars
Chvāsakāminī, or Ugracandī, the dreadful
goddess who resides at chvāsa is Palden Lhamo. Chvāsa
is a place originally distant from the Newar residential area where trash
and debris are deposited and where are ritually thrown the clothes and
other belonging of a dead person, as well as newly born children’s
umbilical cords. She causes and cures pediatric diseases. An examination
of Newari paintings reveals that she is popular in them as well as in
Tibetan paintings. Likewise, Bangdel does not seem to be familiar with
the fact that the Newari name Syeńgu or Sińgu is derived from
sā-hmeńgu a compound word from classical Newari. As
we know from the Newari translation of Amarakośa, a celebrated
Sanskrit thesaurus, it literally means “a cow-tail.” Therefore
in the Svayambhūpurāna this compound word is
synonymously used for Gopuccha, the Sanskrit name for the Cow-tail Hill
of Svayambhū. When the hilltops were visualized as horns it is also
designated as Gosrńga “Cow’s Horn.” Unaware
of the different meaning of these Newari and Sanskrit words, Bangdel combines
both Sanskrit and Newari terms and creates a new word for the cow-tail
hill Gosingu. And Huntington simply accepts it.

Before we conclude this review article, it will be prudent to examine
briefly Huntington and Bangdel’s major study regarding the cult
of Cakrasamvara and Vajravārāhī in Kathmandu. Prior
to them, several scholars contributed on this subject. David Gellner,
for instance, treated the subject in detail showing the relation between
Cakrasamvara's mandala and the ritual
of pīthapūjā "the
worship of power places" in the valley which was visualized by the
practitioners as the mandala of deities. Gellner
correctly pointed out that the three pilgrimage circles were interpreted
as standing for the circles (cakra) of the mandala,
body, speech, and thought (kāya, vāk, citta).
[42]
Huntington and Bangdel incorporated this view in their work as their main
theme. Apparently, well-known Tibetologist Robert Thurman is not familiar
with the works on Newar Buddhism. Thus, in the foreword he highly praises
the authors for “their discovery of a thriving practice still alive
among the Newars of Nepal”.

It is true that the cult of Cakrasamvara plays an important role
in modern Newar Buddhism. This is not however the reiteration of great
antiquity. The early phase of Tantric Newar Buddhism of the valley was
devoid of Cakrasamvara’s cult and remained so until it overlapped
with the second phase, which was dominated by the cult of Cakrasamvara
and Vajravārāhī. In order to study epigraphic and textual
evidence related with this development we need to be familiar with an
important architectural element of the Newar Buddhist monastery. This
architectural element is locally known as āgamchem. The word āgam
apparently derives from the Sanskrit word āgama "learning,"
and the second word chem is Newari and literally means an edifice.
The significance of this edifice is based on the fact that esoteric rituals
are performed in the second floor of this edifice. But its ground floor
contains an exoteric shrine of Buddha Śakyamuni or one of the five
Tathāgatas, who are known to the Newars as kvāpādya,
a generic term used for all these Buddhist divinities when they are housed
in that particular shrine. The etymology of "kvāpādya"
is not clear but the well accepted Sanskritized version of this word is
kosthapāla , which literally means "protector
of a room". In this exoteric shrine the Buddhist priests and devotees
perform regular devotional pūjā. My own observation
indicates that most of the time the kvāpādya is Aksobhya
and the main tantric deities of the esoteric shrine in the second floor
of āgamchem often correlate with the iconographic identity
of the kvāpādya enshrined in the first floor.

Earliest reference to such edifice with double shrines is found in a
copper plate inscription dated 1388. This important inscription, which
is in situ on the wall of the āgamchem of Hnaikam Bahi in
Kathmandu, tells us that during the reign of Sthitimalla (ca. 1382-1395)
a Buddhist devotee consecrated a multistoried shrine as well as an image
of kosthapāla Buddha (kvāpādya)
in a pre-existing Buddhist monastery known as Kirtipunya Mahāvihāra.
According to same inscription the upper story of this newly built
shrine housed an image of Heruka Yāmalaka “Heruka in pair”.
[43]
Very likely this Heruka, is no other than Cakrasamvara because
another Buddhist inscription (dated 1511) found in Viśvakarma Vihāra
in Kathmandu refers to the establishment of new shrine of Heruka who is
described there as the incarnation (avatāra) of Aksobhya.
[44]
Indeed the family head of Cakrasamvara is Aksobhya. For
this reason the headgear of the early images of Cakrasamvara bears
Aksobhya's image. It is true that the epithetic name Heruka is
also used for Hevajra. But this god is not the member of Aksobhya's
family. Note also the fact that the date of the earliest epigraphic reference
to Heruka coincides with the growth of the popularity of artistic representations
of Cakrasamvara and Vajravārāhī in Nepalese art.

Despite such popularity of these divinities, Newar Buddhist monasteries,
which followed earlier convention, remained without a shrine for Cakrasamvara
and Vajravārāhī even in later time. An inscription dated
1593 in situ near the entrance of Otubaha in Kathmandu informs us that
the construction of Buddhist monasteries of the valley and the consecrations
of the images in the monasteries closely followed the rules and rituals
prescribed in Kuladatta's Kriyāsamgraha. [45]
This important text is a manual of the Buddhist rituals for constructing
and consecrating monasteries, stūpas, and images. According
to Gustav Roth, this work “belongs to the category of of Buddhist
Kriya-tantras of the eighth and ninth centuries AD” [46]
The text begins with a salutation to Vajrasattva, who is treated there
as the main tantric deity. This text, however, neither refers to Cakrasamvara
nor suggests that it is compulsory to have a shrine of the deity in a
Buddhist monastery. When we study this textual evidence and compare it
with the information found in the Otubaha inscription (dated 1593) and
the earliest reference to Heruka Yāmalaka’s shrine in Hnaikam
Bahi inscription (dated 1388) it become abundantly clear that for a period
of time the cult of Cakrasamvara developed in overlapping mode.
Eventually, the Kriyāsamgraha became obsolete mainly because
this early manual could not fulfill Newar Buddhists’ growing interest
in the cult of Cakrasamvara and Vajravārāhī. As
a result this text was gradually replaced by Jagaddarpana's Kriyāsamuccaya
, another manual of Buddhist rituals of later time written after
the twelfth century. The main tantric deity of this text is Cakrasamvara
and Vajravārāhī. At the beginning of the work, the author
salutes them as the most prominent divinities. The significance of this
manual for our study, however, derives from the fact that much of the
contemporary Newar tantric tradition including the rituals associated
with Cakrasamvara and Vajravārāhī is mainly based
on this manual instead of Kuladatta's Kriyāsamgraha.
Although a comparative analysis of these two manuals awaits a longer study,
even a brief observation like this clearly indicates that the cult of
Cakrasamvara and Vajravārāhī is the
new element that dissects early and later approaches of Tantric Buddhism
of Nepal. The authors of the catalogue, once again, did not make any attempt
to study such historical development of the cult in Nepal although all
these epigraphic documents were published many years ago.

Finally it should be pointed out that there is plenty of evidence to
show that in the milieu of the ongoing interaction between the Hinduism
and Buddhism, Budddhist intellectuals including the author of the Svayambhūpurāna
did not have any reason to show hesitation in assimilating Shaivite elements
into Buddhism. Even śivalińgas are considered in the purāna
as Vītarāga or Vaitarāga Bodhisattvas. [47]
The list of Shaivite pīthas given in an unpublished manuscript
called Nepāla-mandala-pītha-pūjā-vidhi
(4. 214, reel no. b. 189.16) in the collection of National Archive of
Nepal do not differ much from the three circles of Buddhist pīthas
described in the Svayambhūpurāna. Furthermore,
it is difficult to deny the similarity between Samvara and Natarāja
as exemplified by various attributes. They have in common such as crescent
moon, elephant’s hide, dance posture, khatvāńga,
and Brahmaśiras. Unfortunately, however, in the methodology of the
authors of the catalogue cross-religious analysis is almost completely
missing. Moreover, any information suggesting Buddhist divinity’s
association with Hindu deity is avoided sometime removing the name of
a Shaivite deity such as Virūpāksa in translation although
the god is clearly mentioned in the inscription.[48]
Such unscholarly approach apparently stemmed from almost devotion-like
over emphasis on the cult of Cakrasamvara
and Vajravārāhī.

I would like to thank my younger
sister Sumati Vajracharya for assisting me to collect important documents
from the Vajracharya priests in Kathmandu. I am grateful to Prof. Alexander
Rospatt for the information dealing with the Vairocana image commissioned
by queen Bhuvanalaksmi. Furthermore, I would like to express my gratitude
to Prof. Joanna Williams and Dr. Mary Slusser for providing me with excellent
detail photographs of Nepali sculptures that I have used here for illustrations.